Inner Truths
by Alaylith
Summary: The perfect harmony of a friendchip. If one of them just wouldn't be so stubborn.
1. Hearing

_Author's Note:  
Don't know how I found this plot bunny (or how it found me).  
At first Mycroft shouldn't play such a role, but somehow I had no control over it. ^^  
As usual, I'm german and translated the story, so if there are any mistakes I'm sorry!_

_Btw, I have two more chapters planned, but I don't know if and when I'll write them and if/when I'll translate them. :)_

_Otherwise I hope you like it!_

I am just setting down my tea cup, when my door bursts open and my insufferably younger brother storms into my flat.

I thought I had locked the door. And bolted.

"Mycroft, I must talk to you!" thunders Sherlock while he rushes to me and throws his coat to the ground.

He has always been an extremely disorderly nuisance.

"I thought as much, Sherlock," I answer and sigh loudly.

Sherlock starts a furious pacing in front of my dining table.

"This stubborn idiot makes me livid! Why can't he accept that I am almost always correct!"

"Because this stubborn idiot may very well know that you aren't always correct?" I ask slowly and take a biscuit. "Am I right in assuming that this _stubborn idiot_ is Dr. Watson?"

"Who else could it be?" Sherlock answers hotly and continues his pacing through my living room.

"What was it this time?" I query, surrendering to my fate.

Sherlock and his friend have an unbelievable, very harmonious friendchip, which I can't understand (how could someone endure Sherlock over any length of time? **I** speak from experience) and it is a mystery how they can deal with each other for those people who know them.

However nobody knows that these two bullheads have their share of rowings. They aren't any ill-natured rowings, they are more like disagreements born out of their deep regard and respect for each other.

Only I am privy to this little secret of their coexistence and that's just because of Sherlock having the habit to come to me to fuss over these disagreements.

And my habit is to give him a piece of my mind and to send him back home. I can't waste my time on these trifles just because he isn't able to handle his feelings.

But this seems to be the lot of all older brothers…

Sherlock starts with a rant about the disagreement he had with Watson tonight.

Sherlock is in pursuit of a criminal, an _extreme dangerous and ruthless murderer_ to use his words and this criminal noticed Sherlocks inquiries and he intimated that he would not tolerate the meddling of an amateur sleuth. If Sherlock ever dares to step onto his property he would kill him.

Sherlock of course wants to follow this invitation.

Watson of course wants to accompany him.

And of course they had a quarrel about it.

As Sherlock wanders through my living room, I look at him and let my thoughts roam free.

In the beginning I was sceptical about this partnership, eventuel friendchip.

My brother is a reserved man and stands on his own two feet. He acquired this in his childhood and I acquired to allow him his independence.

Since knowing Watson he started to change and he may still be an independent individual in the eyes of the world, who is on a higher level than any normal man, mentally he is like the moon which orbits around the earth.

In this case Watson is the earth.

These changes became especially obvious after Reichenbach.

Apart from instructions there was another important element in our sparce contacts in these three years – information about Watson.

I did not recognized my brother after his return.

The expression in his eyes as he was here in this room in front of me, hearing a report about Watson with all the details I could never write in pathetic telegrams, is haunting.

Since that moment John Watson has my full confidence and has earned my deepest respect.

This is the reason why my brother comes to me so often and why I straighten him out.

Even if Sherlock now carries true feelings inside, he isn't ready to handle them.

"He even accused me that I don't take this partnerchip seriously!" Sherlock exclaims while throwing his arms up into the air and I see my chance.

"Well, you don't, Sherlock."

Like a tiger on the hunt Sherlock leaps around and glares at me.

I only sniff with disdain.

„Come on, Sherlock. Nothing against the doctor, be he isn't young anymore and he is a cripple. He has neither the brain nor the knowledge to be a full partner in your work. He is just a by-stander on the crime scene."

"Do not dare to talk like this about him, Mycroft," Sherlock growls lowly and I wave him away.

"You're thinking the same, otherwise you would not forbid him to challenge a murderer."

"That has nothing to do with this!" Sherlock cries angrily and I can see the storm raging in his eyes.

I unbalance him. Good.

"What is it then? If he's your full partner then why won't you let him fully partake?"

Opening and closing his mouth, Sherlock looks for an answer and swallows hard when he finds it.

But then he shakes his head vigorously.

"It stands to reason-"

"It stands to reason that he is your partner and takes on the risk of this job," I interrupt him coldly.

"It stands to reason that he also runs the gauntlet. It stands to reason that he also hunts criminals. It stands to reason that it should be all the same to YOU, because it is HIS decision.

You abide reason, so why are you upset?"

His shoulders sag and the storm in his eyes fades leaving behind a light grey.

In the past it was the grey of mist for me, opaque and indecipherable. Now it is the grey after a rain shower when the world's clearing and everything is pure.

"I don't think logical. So nothing applies what you say."

"Why do you not think logical?" I ask and he lowers his eyes.

Obstinate until the end, little brother.

"You doubting his abilities to manage the criminal is not the reason why you do not wish him to accompany you.

You doubt _your_ abilities to manage the criminal.

You doubt your abilities to _prevent _something happening to him.

And you doubt your abilities to cope with it _if_ something happens to him."

Each diagnosis lets Sherlock seem younger and more helpless.

So stiffened on logic he can't cope with his feelings.

But Watson is full of feelings and like Sherlock brings logic into his life, Watson brings feelings into Sherlocks life.

The perfect harmony.

If only Sherlock would accept it finally.

I sigh knowing that Sherlock followed me this far and that I can't achieve more. At least today.

"If only you would start saying all this to the doctor, Sherlock. It would ease your quarrels if not even undo them."

A small smile graces his lips.

"Somehow I think he already knows everything."

A responding smile appears on my face.

"Yes, he seems to."

I look at the clock and shoo Sherlock away.

"Now get back to Baker Street, it's late. I wasted enough time on you."

"Always so hearty, brother mine," Sherlock teases and I pierce him with a look.

"It seems so. Sometimes more than you." Then I smile again. "But never like him."

The grey of his eyes warms like from sunshine after the rain and he nods, before he takes his coat from the ground.

"I thank you, brother," are his parting words, the door closes after him and I am surrounded by silence again.

I take my cup back again when footsteps sound behind me.

"Was there really need for the by-stander?"

A laugh grows in my chest unintentional and I wink at Watson standing at my side.

"You know how he is. Sometimes it needs the extreme for him to understand the extreme."

Watsons nods slowly and looks to the door.

"Still I am not sure if this deception is a good idea."

"It is no deception of any kind, my dear Doctor," I rumble.

"I mean everything I say to him. I don't tamper with him so he says what you wish to hear."

I stand up, step around the table to his side and lay my hands on his shoulders.

In his eyes there is a storm which needs to be calmed as well.

"But we both know that he probably won't ever be able to tell you these inner truths. And even so you esteem, respect and understand him so very much, we also both know that sometimes you just need to hear these words.

It is no weakness of yours, Doctor and no shame to admit. And if I can give him a piece of my mind it's even better."

A small laugh escapes him and his eyes shine.

I notice as so many times before that it is the same radiance like Sherlock has in his eyes.

"I thank you again, Mycroft. I am sorry that we are always troubling you."

"For what are older brothers there?" I sigh and I smile softly at him.

"It is always my greatest pleasure to assist my little brothers any way I can."

Astonished he looks at me but then a gentle smile graces his lips and he returns my look gratefully.

"Now you should return, too, otherwise he will worry too much about your whereabouts and I don't think you want to go on the hunt with an irritating detective."

Watson laughs good-natured, before he follows Sherlock out of the door and is on his way back to Baker Street.

And like on so many other evenings I recline in my chair and I feel like I accomplished more than on countless working days when I consult a whole country.

It may very well be that I am more of the older brother mentally…


	2. Knowing

_Author's Note:  
So I finally finished the second chapter!_

_I do not know why, but somehow I got a weird feeling with this one...  
Ah well, I hope you like it! :)_

_The +...+ are some kind of breaks, sorry for the stupid face. XD  
_

_

* * *

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"That is the end of this discussion!"

Holmes takes his stick, hat and coat and thunders the stairs down.

Just a moment later I hear the door slamming and I sigh deeply, sitting down at my desk.

I will not go to Mycroft today. I already know why he is agitated and angry and this time he is entitled to be.

Last month I was shot during the hunt after a criminal, it was only a minor wound, but Holmes was awfully frightened. I understand that he does not wish for my companionship this time when I am still recovering.

I do not need hearing him telling Mycroft this.

Picking up a pen I suddenly remember the first time I went to Mycroft.

+...+

It was a different kind of argument we had back then. We were both angry and thought we were correct. Hurtful words were spoken we both regretted.

It was one of our worst moments.

Just like today Holmes left in a fury and I myself would have left if he would not have been faster.

However it only took some minutes for my anger to dissipate and shame and regret took over. I overreacted and I should have never said those things to him. It was not right.

I struggled in my coat, took my walking stick and left in hope I would be able to find him. Holmes as a logician could make some very stupid mistakes when this agitated.

I do not remember why but I took a cab to the Diogenese club and asked for Mycroft. After Holmes' return Mycroft was more open and friendly to me the few times we met, I do not know why but welcomed the change in comparison to his cold behaviour after Reichenbach.

I was still timid as I entered the visitor's room, but his questioning face evolved into a smile seeing me and he waved me to a chair.

"My dear Doctor, this is a surprise. And Sherlock is not with you."

"No, I am alone," I said and something must have shown him my worries.

"What has Sherlock done this time?"

"Well, nothing really. At least he did it not alone."

Mycroft's gaze wandered over my face and he sighed.

"You had one of your discussions."

I was surprised. "How do you know?"

A knock interrupted him and a butler looked into the room.

"Your brother is here, sir."

I looked up and Mycroft made a fast decision.

"It may be better so. Hurry, Doctor! Behind the bookcase!"

Never have I seen him move so fast. He pulled me out of my chair and ushered me to a bookcase, where he touched a book and the bookcase opened.

Mycroft pushed me into the small room and closed it again before I was able to say anything.

There was a small slit around the door and a little bit of light came into the room. It was enough for me to see my own hands but no more.

Just a moment later I heard the door to the visitor's room open and Holmes' voice sounded.

"Mycroft!"

"I am here, brother, no need to shout," Mycroft answered and I finally realized that Mycroft did not want Holmes to know that I was there.

And that I should hear their conversation. I slowed my breath and tried to hear what was happening outside.

I could hear Holmes pacing and his angry breathing.

"He just does not understand! That bloody idiot! It is too dangerous and he wants to jump right into it!"

I recognized these words, because Holmes said them to me just earlier and a slight pang went through my chest.

"What are you talking about, Sherlock?"

"Watson! He can not see that it is too dangerous for him to continue his work in Whitechapel after the threats from Dowels. He treated Dowels' wife who was beaten by her husband and Dowels found out that Watson helped her. Dowels said if Watson ever returns he will kill him. And Watson wants to go back!"

"It is his duty," Mycroft said, but Holmes just snorted and Mycroft sighed.

"Sherlock, he is a doctor. It is his foremost duty to help people who are in need of his help. And he loves his profession, so he will follow his duty even if it endangers his life! Just like you. You will not stop hunting your criminals, too and that is dangerous as well."

For a while Holmes continued to breathe heavily, before he sighed and dropped into a chair.

"Just last month there were three murders in Whitechapel. They were gruesome and they were near the hospital where Watson works. I tried to find something, but there is nothing. No clue, no tie, just nothing. I do not wish to tell him, he would only…"

"Think that you are too worried? That you exaggerate watching Whitechapel to make sure that there is no danger for him?" Mycroft finished slowly and my breath hitched.

He was watching the happenings in Whitechapel this whole time and that just because of me? He tried catching the criminals in hope of securing my being there?

So the reason he did not want me to go there was not because he did not think me able to protect myself, but just because he was afraid for me?

I always saw Holmes as a logician and even so I held a special place in his heart, I never thought it possible that it went this far.

That he really was afraid of losing me.

I felt tears collecting in my eyes and brushed them away. I was so wrong and the whole argument this night was my fault alone.

How could I ever doubt him?

The brothers had continued their conversation in friendlier tones, but I no longer listened. I wanted to go out there and ask Holmes for forgiveness, but I did not wish for Mycroft to get into trouble with his brother.

Some moments later Holmes left and the bookcase opened again.

Mycroft had a tender look in his eyes and he led me back to my chair.

"Almost always Sherlock comes here after your little discussions and rants around. I calm him down and send him back to you. Do not worry yourself, it is difficult to life with him together. I should know that.

Sometimes it may be too hard, but please do not give up. He really needs you, you know? I could think of no better man to be his companion, partner and his friend than you."

He sat down opposite me and favoured me with a smile.

"If you ever need to hear it from himself, just come to me. He may be too stubborn to admit it to your person, but he can hide nothing from me. I am his older brother after all."

+...+

I do not often go to Mycroft, but sometimes I follow his invitation and listen to Holmes talking about me.

I do not like deceiving him like this, but as Mycroft said sometimes I just need to hear him say these things. It really helps to bear the burden of being his partner and friend.

Suddenly I hear the door downstairs and slow steps approach the door. It opens and Holmes comes into the room looking tired and worn out.

"Why are we both always so stubborn?" Holmes asks and I shrug my shoulders.

"Because we are both mules?"

A slow smile grazes his lips and I feel an answering smile on my own. We accept and forgive each other like always.

"There is a new opera I wish to see and after that we have a criminal to catch. If you still wish to accompany me?" Holmes says and I rise.

"It would be my pleasure."

He steps to my side and takes my arm without mentioning my wincing when I stood.

Together we leave and I am glad being able to hear his inner thoughts spoken out sometimes.

But I am happier knowing his true feelings on my own.


End file.
